


Abnormal

by cousinrayray



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, No Sex, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Teenage lust, Violence, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 12:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12211266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cousinrayray/pseuds/cousinrayray
Summary: Morty couldn't help but feel a bit proud of not being normal





	Abnormal

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short little drabble that was inspired by the episode. I wanted to try a Morty pov. Second fanfic ever in as many days! Hahaomg whatamigettingmyselfinto

Morty had always lived and breathed being abnormal. Before Rick came, he was just a plain, loser-y kind of abnormal, a nervous teenage dipshit full of stammers and boners with a dull, mildly uncomfortable life. 

There was no denying that Rick's arrival spiced things up, exploded his conceptions of what was possible, for the universe and himself. He was even more abnormal now. Every adventure he knew took him further and further away from “normal teen”, but he didn't mind, much. It felt different, better, special. Rick certainly reminded him he was still a nervous teenage dipshit often enough, didn't let him forget that he was still just dumb Morty, but Morty knew he had been improved. 

Being part of Rick's club of heightened abnormality had its drawbacks, of course. He knew so many things he couldn't forget, now. He woke screaming from nightmares, sometimes, and he still didn't know exactly how to cope with each new reality-shattering event as it unfolded. But mostly, he trusted his grandfather to guide him through, had come to depend on the man. He had to, but he also wanted to.

There were limits, however, to what even Rick could help him with, and he thought that he might have stumbled into one of those sorts of problems. 

He wasn't sure when exactly it started. Maybe it had been there from the beginning, born out of a mix of gratitude and hero-worship. He admired Rick so much, his decisiveness, his strength, his easy wit and anarchist attitude. He even admired his cruelty, his merciless drive. He felt so proud that this incredible god-man found him worth hanging around. Over the years, it grew, until every compliment was treasured closely, and every stray touch made his heart beat giddily. It grew a bit… abnormal. The kind of abnormal that Morty was sure wasn't allowed in their club, that crossed even Rick's lines. 

He couldn't help it. He wanted to go with Rick everywhere, be near him at all times. It was like a flower following the sun. He could only try desperately to play it cool, act as normally abnormal as he could. Just a boy and his grandpa.

He knew Rick barely tolerated him at times, found his reflexive loyalty and attachment to him misguided and stupid at best, at worst pitiful. He knew that if Rick had any idea exactly how much Morty cared about him he would laugh his ass off, and probably use it against him for the rest of his life. It was weird and it was pathetic. 

 

He was coping though, until it crossed into flat-out gross and wrong. They were fleeing from one of Rick's fuck-ups, this time angry micro-beings that powered the ship’s battery. It was pouring down rain inside the microverse, and as they pounded their way up the ramp to the craft, he heard Zeep, the Rick-esque dickhoke scientist of that world, screaming his grandfather's name. They paused at the top.

Rick turned his head and, ignoring Morty’s protests, turned back around to “do some schoolin.” Morty stared, helpless, as he strode evenly, almost stalked back down the ramp, face stern and unmoving. He looked predatory, eyes unblinking and merciless. He slid his coat and shirt off with thoughtless conservation of motion as he walked.

It occurred to Morty, still frozen as he watched him stride off, that the simple act of removing those two articles of clothing made his grandfather look strangely naked, which was weird, because he had seen Rick be far more naked before.

Something in the shifting lines of Rick's shoulder blades as he moved, the edges of his surprisingly defined arm muscles meeting the thin fabric of his filthy wife beater, was transfixing. Morty stared at Rick's retreating back, feeling unsettled. 

Rick finished walking towards the alien and unhesitatingly swung, punching him in the face, hard, his own face still in the same flat, almost bored expression. Morty’s breath caught.

Zeep responded quickly by grabbing his grandfather's knees and throwing him to the ground, punching him in turn and reaching up to put out the old man’s eyes. Rick threw him off of him, growling, a light in his bruised eyes. He backed up and threw himself forwards again, bashing his head against the other’s. 

Morty had never seen Rick quite like this, so feral, using his head and body like a bludgeoning tool. He seemed as much, if not more, at home throwing blows like an animal as he did using the incomprehensible brilliance of his mind. He landed a vicious kick to Zeep’s groin, and Morty saw him smile as he did it, cruelty mixing with genuine pleasure. Morty shivered, shifting from foot to foot.

He saw the moment when things changed. Zeep gave a retaliatory punch to Rick's crotch, and the man barely flinched. Instead he kicked the alien back and unleashed a volley of blows, driving Zeep into retreat as he hit him over and over and over. His face was unearthly, unmoving but impassioned, and his eyes were on fire, delighted even. 

Morty could tell that the alien knew he was beaten. In one split second between blows it looked like he was raising his hand, trying to speak. Rick didn't let him, he hit him again without pause.

Morty felt the hair on his arms rise as Rick's eyes swung briefly around. He looked unhinged, like a rabid animal that would bite anything close, even him. 

Rick picked up a rock, swung his arm back, and slammed it into Zeep’s head in one smooth motion. He crumpled at once. Morty couldn't breathe. For just a second Rick looked at the alien, then spat on the unmoving body. 

Holy crap. He wasn't positive, but he thought he might have just watched his grandfather beat someone to death. With his bare hands. It was violent, uncontrolled, and bloody. It was disturbing and frightening, and he might have nightmares. It might have been the hottest thing he had ever seen. 

He came to this realization suddenly, with no small amount of shock. On the tails of that realization came another; he was hard as a fucking rock. 

Shit.

 

Later on at night, in his room, Morty finally let himself ponder the tableaux he had witnessed that day, and his reaction to it. There wasn't much he could say, even to himself. As soon as he thought about his grandfather and the raw brutality he had seen, he felt himself flush.

He thought about how the man had walked back up to Morty and nonchalantly shrugged back on his shirt and coat. But Morty knew what was under them now, knew the kind of man Rick was when they were off. Morty gave out a shuddering breath as he remembered, dick stiffening. 

Well, there was no point going back now. He was alone in his room with a hard dick and a mind full of erotic memories. He knew what that added up to.

When he came in his hand, gasping for breath and relief, that first night, he was red with exertion, arousal, and shame. Afterwards he found it hard to fall asleep. 

It got easier every night after that, though. He was pretty used to being abnormal.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and criticisms always welcome.


End file.
